“Never will I roll in a carriage bought with the money of others,” she said to herself.

Joseph Lebas received her kindly, and she begged him to obtain a place for Cesarine in some respectable commercial establishment.  Lebas made no promises; but eight days later Cesarine had board, lodging, and a salary of three thousand francs from one of the largest linen-drapers in Paris, who was about to open a branch establishment in the quartier des Italiens.  Cesarine was put in charge of the desk, and the superintendence of the new shop was entrusted to her; she filled, in fact, a position above that of forewoman, and supplied the place of both master and mistress.

Madame Cesar went from the “Chat-qui-pelote” to the Rue des Cinq-Diamants, and asked Popinot to let her take charge of his accounts and do his writing, and also manage his household.  Popinot felt that his was the only house where Cesar’s wife could meet with the respect that was due to her, and find employment without humiliation.  The noble lad gave her three thousand francs a year, her board, and his own room; going himself into an attic occupied by one of his clerks.  Thus it happened that the beautiful woman, after one month’s enjoyment of her sumptuous home, came to live in the wretched chamber looking into a damp, dark court, where Gaudissart, Anselme, and Finot had inaugurated Cephalic Oil.

When Molineux, appointed agent by the Court of Commerce, came to take possession of Cesar Birotteau’s assets, Madame Birotteau, aided by Celestin, went over the inventory with him.  Then the mother and daughter, plainly dressed, left the house on foot and went to their uncle Pillerault’s, without once turning their heads to look at the home where they had passed the greater part of their lives.  They walked in silence to the Rue des Bourdonnais, where they were to dine with Cesar for the first time since their separation.  It was a sad dinner.  Each had had time for reflection,—­time to weigh the duties before them, and sound the depths of their courage.  All three were like sailors ready to face foul weather, but not deceived as to their danger.  Birotteau gathered courage as he was told of the interest people in high places had taken in finding employment for him, but he wept when he heard what his daughter was to become.  Then he held out his hand to his wife, as he saw the courage with which she had returned to labor.  Old Pillerault’s eyes were wet, for the last time in his life, as he looked at these three beings folded together in one embrace; from the centre of which Birotteau, feeblest of the three and the most stricken, raised his hands, saying:—­

“Let us have hope!”

“You shall live with me,” said Pillerault, “for the sake of economy; you shall have my chamber, and share my bread.  I have long been lonely; you shall replace the poor child I lost.  From my house it is but a step to your office in the Rue de l’Oratoire.”